Jan 01, 2006 11:57
I never once told Julia how much her friendship meant to me. It’s too late now, of course. Even if she hadn’t died the way she did, and lung cancer is an ugly way to go, I never would have said anything to her about it. I’m just not that sort of person. I don’t want anyone to know what they mean to me, unless they mean nothing. That, I don’t mind them knowing.
Julia was the best friend I ever had, improbable as it sounds. It wouldn’t have seemed possible, that night I forced her to kill Dave Woodard, that we would ever be anything but enemies. Life (and undeath) have ways of taking odd turns. When I look back on it now, I still don’t understand what happened. She did so much for me over the years, searched so hard for a way to cure my vampirism. She never stopped trying, long after I gave up hope. That was Julia. She would never admit defeat.
I never expected her to fall in love with me. In some ways, I still wish she hadn’t. Maybe that’s why I never told her how much her friendship meant to me. There could never be anything more between us, she knew that. I just never wanted to throw it in her face. Somehow, not loving her seemed more unkind than anything else I could possibly do.
Muse: Barnabas Collins
Fandom: Dark Shadows (Misc. TV)
Words: 234